17. Your guards are like grasshoppers,your marshals like swarms of cicadasthat encamp on stone fences on a chilly day;when the sun rises, they take flight;no one knows where they have gone.
18. Your shepherds have fallen asleep, king of Assyria!Your officials are lying down.Your people are scattered across the mountains;there is no one to gather them.
19. There is no remedy for your injury;your wound is grievous.All who hear the news about you clap their hands over you.Who has not suffered from your continual cruelty?